Let's torture a metaphor, friends. The apocalypse is like a family car ride. You have Poppa Nightmare behind the steering wheel, Mama Mayhem fiddling with the radio, and cozy in the backseat are an uncomfortable number of helpless kids, whose gnashings of teeth and limb ruin an already too-tight fit. You all ask your strict father, "Are we there yet?", again and again, over and over, until he's threatening to turn this god damn car around, and so help you if you want to make it you best shut your mouth, Bobby. Tragically, when he turns around to belt you with his hand, he doesn't see where he's going, crashes into an electric pole, and veers off into a crowd. That's what the apocalypse is like.

Also, it isn't a metaphor. Raccoon City's on the verge, supplies running low, power cut off, sightings of the infected on the rise-- and in a rush to escape, not caring for the flooded bridges or the warnings, concerned only with his family, a stressed-out father cruising down Adams Boulevard, the same street that holds the famous Derrie's Dish, an out-of-the-way pancake and sweets shop, he swerved violently out of the way of a streetwalker and flipped the car, careening through the glass entryway of the Dish. There's a horrible scream of groaning metal, a flash of sparks like backwards lightning, and the glass sprays into the air like razored snowflakes. What people have gathered, looters, civilians, and others, all for their own reasons, are treated to a first-hand glimpse of a panicked street as a large SUV slowly threatens to catch fire.

Claire got her shopping done early because she's seen this coming for over a month. Clothes, gas, food, and all other necessary sundries hidden away for use once society crumbles and the majority of supplies are wisked away into the hands of people ready to use violence to secure them. The only reason she's even out now is to head over to the local radio station to secure some gear that is way to useless or archaic for anyone to care about until the very last vestages of the world disappear from Raccoon City forever.

Her motorcycle is forgotten, the rain coming down to hard and creating too dangerous conditions to brave trying to drive it through the already crowded streets. Instead she's trudging along with her heavy black gortex jacket on, hood up, and her hand inside the side-pocket where she's gripping the handle of her big ass Magnum.

Walk softly and carry a big stick or so the saying goes.

This puts her front row for the light show... squinting when the car veers and smashes into the front glass of the Dish to avoid foot traffic. "Dammit!" She frowns a little and immediately starts running towards the accident in hopes of helping anyone inside out of the potentially explosive car.

Looting? No one is looting! Yet? Probably right? Andrei has just found what appears to be a firemens jacket tucked under his arm.. and that leather jacket he is wearing over his park ranger's uniform seems to just a normal incidental purchase, O yes, certainly. It is a touch nippy outside after all.

And the sewing kit? Listen some things are just better not talking about.

The chaos though was perfect cover for Andrei to go out and get his daily groceries and shopping done after all though. He'll walk along cheerfully enough with his oddities, perhaps just a touch out of place for the impending desperation that will soon be gripping the city. Of course the accident occurring down the street does to some extent put a damper on his 'chipper' mood however. Thus slowly, and carefully Andrei Kirov will approach the scene of the accident, remaining as far away as humanly possible from the accident itself of course, but at least close enough to giraffe neck around a bit and gawk.

In this lovely metaphor, a certain wealthy VP's daughter assumes the role of horrified bystander, both figuratively and literally. All Lillian wanted to do was enjoy a simple plate of pancakes buried in frosted sugar and maple syrup - so what if it was more appropriately dinner time, and she had to pay extra to get the cooks to turn on the stove? Was that really so much to ask for? So as one might understand, she was quite unexpectedly witness to an entire car barreling through the famous restaurant, taking her entire table along with it. Reclining in her seat with fork and knife to hand, a harrowing cloud of glass gusts in her general direction. She feels her body pelted by tiny shards, and its only through sheer luck and uncanny reaction that she manages to duck behind the shield of her booth to guard herself from most of the onslaught. All the while, she's screaming in terror, trembling and holding her utensils in red-splotchy fists.

It has been a long night for Raccoon City's finest, but clearly it is far from over. The harried father was unlucky enough to lose it and plow into the Dish... but lucky enough to do so within view of a truckload of S.T.A.R.S. on patrol.Trixie Mackenzie, rookie S.T.A.R.S. officer, has once again found herself behind the wheel of the same '98 Tahoe police package she's been using on and off for a week. Only this time, she's sharing it with several teammates, fellow S.T.A.R.S. itching to do some good in a city not long for this world. At the sight of the crowd, she kicks on the lightbar and reaches for the siren, blipping it twice to hopefully clear some space to pull up to the scene. "Got some kind of crash up ahead... didn't see exactly where he went, but I sure /heard/ it," she says to her coworkers. "Looks like we're gonna be doing the Rescue part of our jobs tonight. Somebody grab the extinguishers, 'kay?"

While Archene is not as paranoid as a certain scientist which by now probably has enough stock in his basement to survive for 50 years of nuclear holocaust, he has done his part to prepare for this. He knew he wouldn't be getting an 'easy way out of the city', he had a job to keep after all. And if not assigned out of the city, he should remain.

He is simply walking along a less travelled street with his usual jacket and a pistol and a knife being properly hid by it. The jeans and white shirt being more easily seen. He walks from a side street into the bigger street one to see an SUV crash into the Derrie's Dish... Good thing he had no plans to go there! He stands at the other side of the street to watch the small tragedy, his mind somewhere in between checking if he can do something to help and waiting for the car to explode before actually going there to see if he can help.

Benny doesn't look so well, perhaps it was the peach scone he ate earlier this evening or it might be Trixie's driving in that 98 Tahoe of her's. He thought it would help by gripping the oh shit bar hanging on the upper part of the door, but even his white knuckling of it can't stop physics from the g-forces tossing around like a rag doll in this police version of Towmater when Trixie takes a corner like the Indy 500. His other hand is gripping his newly issued, H&K MP7 Personal Defense Weapon (PDW), which he prays the safety is still on. "I think I need rescuing..." he mutters and hangs on for dear life and thanks the gods that he's the only person in the back seat in case he pukes.

Sitting in the very back seat of the Tahoe was one very tall officer of the LAW. William Caldwell to be exact. He watches as the SUV rams itself into Derrie's Dish after doing a flip or two and watches in sheer horror. "Jesus..this city really is going to hell." he mutters out loud, his teammates surely being able to hear it. He gets himself prepped for duty, adjusting his utility belt and his upgraded pistol. Sadly for Benny he isn't the only person in the back seat so if he's upchucking it's probably sadly going to be on him. He prepares himself to get out on orders of his Sergeant, Buck. Getting ready to clear the scene if needed as well as keep an eye out for infected. "Keep an eye out, the infected could be anywhere out here."

The SUV is a demon on the ice. It blows a tire and spins in a circle as it tumbles, a beautiful triple salchow that ends in a crushed windshield, a compressed roof, and rising smoke, as tables and chairs are scattered by the whirlwind and the cash register, abandoned in a flight of panic by the chubby man overseeing it for the oh-so-privileged Lillian, gets ripped up and smashed, sending a cloud of bills and change pillowing up into the air, before they collapse like hail on the shorn steel. Pained and painfully human groans drift from the wreck. The collapsed counter and front end of the vehicle blocks the doorway into the backroom kitchens.

The streets, beyond this disaster, seem startlingly quiet. The city's so much darker when the lamplights flicker and blink, covering their eyes so they don't see what's going on; without radios, without music, without people, there's just the wind corpse-breath-rattling through the network of darkened alleys between apartments and boutiques. Overhead, the fat clouds hiding the moon spook, and make a bit of a mess, a few heavy drops bouncing off people's skin.

Claire rushes right into the breach as if she's got a complete disregard for self preservation. "Anyone hurt?" There is absolutely zero chance that everyone escaped unharmed, but it's good to get a survey of the damage and who she can press into assisting her before starting to bark out orders.

Her first priority are the people in that SUV. She ducks down and throws a table out of her way with one shoulder so she can slide up near the crushed back window of the smoking vehicle. "I'm going to get you out of there, just hold on a little longer!" Turning to look around the shop, "I need help getting these doors open! There's kids in here!"

The sounds of crashing, of looting.. and well people in pain are quite scary, and though Andrei is there, he is keeping his distance. Being a park ranger means there are all sorts of forms and papers that need to be filed when assisting an individual and this looks to be the work for a paramedic, or a firefighter. Thus, while being in possession of said coat, he is under no obligation to actually intervene.

Gawk? Yes, Help? No! Not yet anyway, the man remains overly cautious for the time being, watching Claire, watching all sorts of others slowly gather around as well, each going their own way. Yet for the time being, remaining uninvolved and neutral. Oh Children? Well.. It's clear that Andrei is tempted, taking a step towards the SUV, but he hesitates, looking about for other more inspired.. perhaps bigger.. and better equipped individuals to assist. Got to keep your actions open after all!

While hell breaks loose in Derrie's Dish, Lillian finds the courage to slide along the edge of her booth and half-collapse to the ground. She inevitably winces when a palm finds glass, and decides to crawl a bit more cautiously from then on. She just barely has the awareness to stretch back and swipe for her precious five hundred dollar clutch. Hazel green eyes flicker upwards then, noting the shoddy state of the pancake place and the family car. Shit, she really liked this restaurant. Feeling a burning sensation on her right cheek, she unsteadily rises to her feet, allowing her boots to crunch harmlessly over dangerous rubble. Her features brighten with hope upon catching sight of the first witness to her pain. Teeth chattering in shock and panic, she calls out, "the...t-the glass. And the c-car. I...I...I..." All she can do is dumbly stare while her supposed savior hurries to the SUV instead. Her expression completely blanks at the news of kids, but she nevertheless does not seem prepared to help.

Hearing someone shouting kids, makes it no easier for Archene to just watch. Well, not everything in life must be done for working. There should still be some time before the the cars explodes... and a single person probably won't be able to take them out in little time. Specially if untrained.

He propromtly looks to both sides of the street before dashing over, once arriving there he'd try to help Claire to pry the door open.

"Keep those cookies down Benny, or you're cleaning 'em up!" Trixie says sharply, not quite snapping at him as she reaches for the radio. "Dispatch, Mary Four... got a crash. Looks like some kind of vehicle went through the front of The Dish. Need whatever backup and emergency you can give me. Mary Four, out."She brings the Tahoe to a halt, angling the nose to point the headlights into the restaurant. Mostly what she lights up is the backs of the crowd around the shattered facade of the restaurant. "Hey! Police! Can anyone not helping please move back from the building? Let's give these folks room to work, please!" she calls, stepping out of the vehicle and reaching for the extinguisher next to the driver's seat.

Jumping out of the car as fast as possible at the mention of kids being trapped is the giant officer, Caldwell. He runs over to the inside of the Derry Dish and spots a slightly injured Lillian, a glance is given to her then he looks straight to the SUV "We'll be with you in a minute, ma'am. More severe casualties first." and he rushes over to the door to try and pry it open so that he can help the family in danger of exploding in the car.

"Sor...sorry. Just not used to your...uhh...this car yet, Trixie." Benny replies, taking deep breaths and exits the vehicle quickly when Trixie come to a stop. Seeing as both Buck and William are going to try to help pry the door of the crashed SUV open, he will have trouble squeezing in to assist so he takes up position behind them, since he's rear security and all. "Move back peo...people. S.T.A.R.S. on scene..." Well he's seeing a bit of stars right now but he's acting professional despite his nausea. "This is for your safety. We need as much room as possible to conduct a proper rescue and there could be a fuel leak so please back away to the side walk over there." He makes sure nobody is trying to get in the way of the accident scene and is also watching his team mates back, holding his H&K MP7 in the low tuck position, with the barrel pointing down to the ground for now and using his other hand to direct people away.

The hard-working trio comes together at the slow-burning SUV with its crushed, jammed doors and trapped passengers. The pressure from tons of steel pushing down on metal joints and hinges makes the brute-force method difficult; but with some luck, Archene manages to fumble it in such a way that the lock on the back door comes undone, and with Claire, William, and he working, over the course of a few minutes they'll be able to slowly wiggle the door open enough that a normal-sized person (not Will or Archene) can squeeze in to get at the kids within, who are both alive, both crying, and both stunned.

There's the start of a response to Trixie. It cuts out into static. That's been happening a lot the last few days. Backup's a coin toss, here-- she'll need to take charge with her teammates. The flames on the back of the vehicle start good and proper now, and we all know what happens in games like this when a car starts burning bad.

Those nearest the outskirts of the Dish, centered around Andrei, might begin to notice unpleasant things. Shapes that stumble, punchdrunk, wino-focused, from alleys and doorways, that come from behind the diner. Speaking of behind, by now, the two young cooks that were daring to work for a few extra bucks and some food have well and truly skedaddled, forcing their way in blind fear out the backdoor when the crash happened. Y'all can hear a strangled shout and another voice tinged with fear crying, "Holy fucking shit jesus christ!"

Claire locks eyes on the terrified woman stammering nearby and frowns a little, "I need your help... ''they'' need your help.." her voice is surprisingly calm, but there's an edge to it too. She looks tot he door and then around for something to pry the side of the vehicle open. "I understand you're scared, but so are they... and they're trapped in this car. So you need to get it together or get out of the shop... I cannot help you and free them."

It's the standard cowboy up or giddy on speech, ala Claire Redfield.

The sound of police! Sweet Christmas! "Hey! We have kids trapped in this SUV! If you've got a Jaws o-" Boom, William is all save the day over here. "Or you can use your manly arms, I guess... whatever works." Kneeling back down, Claire reaches in to grab the little girls hand through the compressed window, having to lay flat to shift her arm through the opening. "Hey sweetie, I need you to do me a favor okay? You have to be a super woman... grab your brother and get his seatbelt off okay? Then get ready cus we're going to get you both out..."

Glancing up at William, "How's it going up there superman?"

Then the door is prying open and Claire is wiggling in to help get the little girl out along with her brother, then moves towards the front seat to check on the mother in the passanger side... holding onto her lunch with face melting off the driver.

If one were to look for where Andrei was about five seconds ago.. he would most certainly not be where he was five seconds ago. Almost without even a second thought the man basically has slipped away down the street, possibly hiding behind a mailbox, or possibly a broken down phonebooth. Not for any particular reason, none at all.

The sounds of shouting are unrelated to his hiding either.

It is from his new safe hiding spot that Kirov will watch, safley, and hopefully securly the unfolding scene as his eyes focus intently from afar, peeking up or around whatever currently is obscuring his body and his presence from outside observation.

Lillian instinctively lifts a hand to shield her eyes from the sudden glaring light outside Derrie's new wall. When someone new arrives, she stares at William, but her features only betray the subtlest of comprehension and surprise. Following the officer with her gaze, she lets her hand fall back to her side. The crying of children wakes her up just enough to flinch when two men shout similarly, and she eventually blinks in apparent acknowledgement of Claire's words. "H-help?" She swallows hard, looking back and forth between the vehicle and the officer. Hesitantly, she takes a step forward, feeling her heart practically skip a beat when her hands finally relax enough to release her utensils onto the rubble.

"How...how can -I- help?" She sounds completely baffled by the concept that she could actually assist, but she sort of hovers behind Claire in preparation to do so - however numbly and reluctantly.

William is busy trying to be the hero of the day while Archy does all the hard work for him. He grunts as he lifts and bends the metal to the best of his ability, using the entirety of his weight to keep the SUV from collapsing on top of Archene and Claire. He groans, noticeably wearing out from the heavy lifting. If he were Buck, he'd just rip the SUV in half. "Was already on it the second I got here, ma'am." he says, offering a pained smile that flexes from smile to agony in mere seconds as he lifts "Pretty good, please...hurry.." he groans. He looks over to Lillian "Try to do whatever the nice lady in Red needs you to do, i've got the lifting handled I think..oh god my back..."

"Trixie, Will....there's some more people that need help. I'm going to check it out so make sure to watch your backs for a few seconds." Benny calls out to his two partners who are helping to free the people trapped in the SUV. He moves towards the sound of where he heard the cooks screaming, glancing around and peeking to see if he can locate the cause of the alarm in their voices. He doesn't want to get too far away from his partners, since he is their /rear security/ but he also doesn't want to let innocent people get hurt if they are screaming for help either. He kinda notices the shambling people, "Hey I told you people to stay back from the accident. This isn't a joke..." Oh wait, he remembers what Emma was talking to him about. Shit! Don't tell me this nightmare has already started?

Seeing that Willian will already be taking care of the children, Archene has the leisure of glancing more into the store. As he sees Liliam, the kids clearly seem to get out of his priority list, as does Willian. He steps away from the car and towards the woman, checking if she has no injuries that require immediate attention, "Miss Vorst, you should distance yourself from the car it isn't safe, and it may explode at any moment."

Trixie enters more or less behind her teammates. Claire's speaking inspires her, which is good, because there's a fire trying to break out, and she /does not like fires/! "Okay... break seal, pull pin, aim at base of fire, aaaaaaand....." she murmurs, unlimbering the extinguisher and squeezing the trigger-handles. With a series of hissing whooshes she directs the dry chemical discharge where it will do the most good. Mostly this is under the wrecked vehicle.The flames retreat instantly, but stubbornly refuse to go out. "Guys, you might want to get away from the wreck real soon!" she calls to her teammates, Claire, and Lillian, though she hasn't recognized the latter two in the heat of the moment. "This fire is not wanting to play nice and go out..."

Faces caked in snot, eyes dazed, cut and bruised, the siblings in the backseat are nevertheless alive-- and so, so grateful when Claire makes herself known, instantly latching on to her presence. The little girl sniffles, dizzy, upset. "Mommy," she says, looking away from Claire and toward her unmoving mother, smothered by the airbag. "Mommy come on, we gotta go." The brother's alert, but his arm is broken, and he can't reach his seatbelt because of it. His sister needs to release them both, so they can fall and crawl out. William, to his credit, keeps it steady so they're not rocked, though his hand turns out to be insufficiently proof against a bit of twisted metal, coating his palm in slick iron red and hot pain.

Trixie's brave work on battling the flames is helping, but the damage is bad, and something's feeding the fire. The foam from the extinguisher makes a wet mess, but as she's putting it out, others are popping up, crackling and heating the metal.

There's another shout as Benny makes his way back to where the cooks fled. He doesn't see them, though he can hear a dull knock, knock, knock against the unseen end of the nearby dumpster, overflowing with filth since the garbage men haven't come in awhile. Guess the cooks just bolted! Definitely not on the other side of that dumpster. The walking people continue to move as the cop closes the distance, and when he's within a few yards, the smell hits him: vomit, piss, shit and blood, coming from mouths caked in sores and dried mucus, raw and cracked, with eyes sunk to hollow pits and sallow skin. They're alive, probably, they must be, but they're out of it, they're sick, and they walk right at him. They say things like words.

"Sweetie, I'm going to get your mother..." Claire has twisted and wiggled herself into the SUV, moving so that her feet are between seats and around obstacles so she can see into the front compartment where she finds, without a doubt, that both parents are dead. With grim determination alone she manages a smile and moves to grab hold of the little girl, "Okay, I need some space back here to get the seat down and get your mommy out..." She lies, "So you need to take your little brother out to those nice people trying to hold this thing together..."

So convincing.

She is blissfully unaware of what is happening beyond the broken windows, but she knows time is short.

Andrei is still here watching Benny and that helpful group of people streaming from that alleyway. The carwreck is for the most part ignored at this point as he watches the group slowly filter out. Just in case, Andrei might check to make sure his shoes are still tied and otherwise is prepared to bolt, but for the time being, he'll just watch from a far. Gathering information and trying to at least get a better idea of what is going on.

This wasn't his first time seeing something that gave him that wriggly sensation that made his spine crawl, but the first time in broad daylight, or at least, in the light period, and so, Andrei clearly has elected to stare Cthulu in the face and see what he who slumbers has in store for him. Or what the Zombies have planned, either works.

Uncertainly, Lillian can only nod her head to William's instructions, though her attention quickly shifts at the sound of a familiar voice. Glancing back out the brand new fissure decorating Derrie's Dish, she asks in wonder, "Benny? Benny, is that...is that you?" Hearing her last name compels her to refocus, and she blinks to slowly recognize Archene as well. Currently, she's got a superficial cut bleeding from her right cheek, as well as a few scrapes on her right hand. "Ex..." It takes her a moment to process, and then she exclaims, "explode?!!"

Eyes widening, she stumbles backwards when Trixie discharges the fire extinguisher, obviously confusing the noise with Archene's prophecy. "You...you guys...hurry..." She seems reluctant to leave, but her feet compel her to slowly drift backwards, one panicked step at a time.

William looks down at Claire and grunts, continuing to hold up the shattered wreckage of a car. "Please..hurry..oh god I think i'm gonna have back pain in the morning." he continues heaving the twisted chunk of metal up, keeping it together while Claire hopefully saves the people trapped inside. He calls out to Trixie "Trixie! Keep this damn fire sorted, yeah?" he looks over to the shamblers slowly clambering towards them. "Awww fuck!" he yells. Suddenly he feels the burning on his hand "SON OF A BITCH!" he yells, gritting his teeth and shakily remaining on the burning smoldering of a wreck, though it's clear he's in very serious pain right now. Hopefully this won't result in third degree burns, though with his luck it probably will. He calls out to Benny "Benny! Keep them off us for awhile! We need to save these people!"

"What the hell! Holy...Shit! Fuck! Get the fuck back!" Benny exclaims all at once in a word salad of tourette's syndrome gone horribly wrong. He had heard that the dead would rise again, seen Dawn of the Dead, Evil Dead and Army of Darkness a dozen times but nothing could prepare him for the real rankness of rotting animated walking flesh sacks trying to eat your brains. He's not going to be proud of this moment, but in a panic, instead of reacting in a heroic fashion, he turns and bravely books it back to the Dish as fast as he can. "Trixie, Will. We've got a fucking problem here...infected are coming into the area! We've got to either get out of here or get into defensive position. They are not listening to commands and they do /not/ look well...fucking awful." There is fear in his voice and he points his H&K MP7 in the direction of the shambling figures as he gets behind a mailbox near where the family is trapped in the SUV. "Lillian...what are you doing here. Get away from that burning SUV. Get to our Tahoe, we are neck deep in shit!"

After quickly assessing that Lillian probably has nothing but superficial wounds, Archene says briefly, as calmly as someone that close to a car that may explode, "Ye-" He quickly looks back at the exact reasons for the certainly-not-explosive sounds to see what is being done about the fire, "Don't worry about them, they are professionals, they are the best at what they do. Don't worry, and let's get out of here." As he hears about infected, he begins to wonder how much better the day can get. He sees the officer panicking... then looks back at Lilliam, "And, we may have other things to worry about." He seems to.. move along with her not any slower than herself. Priorities after all.

"Guys, it's spreading! We need to go like, now!" Trixie cries, taking a step back from the fire, discharging the extinguisher until it runs dry, to no noticeable effect. "Shit..." she murmurs, dropping it, and jogging in the direction of poor Benny's shouts.Just in time to have him come running back and bunker down behind a mailbox. "Benny? Are you okay? That just sounded... what's going on back there?" she asks, slightly confused. Recalling a very bad experience less than forty-eight hours ago, she slips her Beretta from its holster. Just in case. "Maybe you should get back to the Tahoe and get ready to get us out of here. That fire's spreading."

Benny is much faster than people with terrible diseases, and he bravely leaves them to their obvious suffering. Such is the power of his charisma, the aura of glory and majesty and utter panic that weeps from every pore that anyone who can see him is assaulted by a wave of anxiety and nervousness; he's a cop, cops aren't supposed to do that. They're the ones who protect you. But folks steel themselves, and the nerves settle-- except for Archene, who never cared anyway, because he's too cool and handsome for mortal concerns.

Meanwhile, in the car, Claire's kindhearted lies have calmed the little girl. She trembles, she sniffles, and she wiggles her way out of her seatbelt, which wasn't releasing when she pushed the button. With some work, and a few murmured mentions of his name, she unslings her brother-- who, much heavier than her, is taken harder by gravity, dropping a half-foot or so from his dangling position and bruising a knee on hard plastic. He's biting his lip and holding it together like a little hero, and the two kids follow Claire's lead, beginning to crawl out, over broken glass and through rising smoke. Cough, cough, cough.

William's hands are slick, red, and burning hot. Beneath the SUV, the flames have begun to spread to the shattered tables and floorboards, serving as kindling. The smoke is coming in thicker waves and the heat is significant. Out in the streets, there's only a few people-- infected, gawkers, undead, it's impossible to tell, the most powerful source of light being the glittering flames inside. What spooked Benny has made it about halfway around the Dish now, and will shortly be in the front. Anyone who wants to run, this is the time, because there's maybe half a dozen freaky things ready to get down.

Claire ushers the young siblings from the wreckage and squeezes out her small framed body out with a gasp of fresh air, or at least not stinking of blood and gore anyways. She grabs her gortex jacket from one of the tables and looks around with soot and blood smudged across her face, ready to-

Her eagle like eyes fix on something beyond the smoke, beyond the window, and well beyond the carnage... Whatever she sees drains all color from her face... which beneath all that muck becomes set into a line of determination..

Her hand slides into the inside pocket of her jacket, which she tosses away because it's far too bulky to carry with her now that she's retrieved what it was hiding; a Magnum Revolver about the size of a handcannon: The Broken Butterfly.

She looks down at it, turning it over in her hand, testing the weight. It was given to her by the first person she ever saw turn into one of these things.. months ago.

She puts on a smile and looks to the two siblings, kneeling down infront of them. "Okay guys, I need you to go with these officers okay? I'm going to slide back in that car and get your mommy, but I don't want the fire to hurt you..." Eyes flickering up to William, around to Trixie... to Benny. Even Archene and Lillian, "Run. Now."

Andrei is still here, watching. His brow will knit in response to Benny's shouting, and it might give the man pause, taking a quick glance down the street to make doubly sure his egress route is still secure, but he steels himself further for whatever it is exactly that is about to happen. Andrei isn't the star of the show, nor a hero rescuing people.. and so.. moving on!

Lillian seems only mildly amenable to Archene's persuasions, offering him a couple nervous nods despite her doubtful glances to the car. A certain level of relief arrives when Benny does, though she still doesn't seem entirely in control of her own panic. Of course, Benny is also not taking the news of this madness well, infecting Lillian with yet more fright, and completely reversing the good his presence had done. At the very least, his shouting gets her moving, and she uses her terror as fuel for flight. "The Tahoe." Her eyes widen, "the Tahoe. Right. Get to the Tahoe!" With that, she's off, leaping and bounding in a reckless sprint towards said semi-pristine automobile.

William finally gives up on holding up the wreckage, his hands slick, red, and burnt nicely. He hisses in pain and ushers to Benny "Grab the boy, i'll get the girl. Best I can help with with my hands fucked up like this. Won't be firing guns any time soon." he kneels down and awaits the girl to climb on his back "Sweetie, we have to leave /now/." he says, hoping Benny would be of some sort of use in this situation, if he had to carry both of the kids he would be very slow in getting away from the infected. He looks over to Trixie and motions for her to get moving. "We need to go, now. Like..right now. The Tahoe won't carry everyone, even getting the kids to squeeze in will be an issue." he runs towards said vehicle, hoping they won't be ambushed on the way out of here.

Seeing Lillian run off, Archene sighs in relief. Looking towards the way she is running, in case something may be on her way to intercept her. Soon enough, he is running behind her, possibly due to someone suggesting it rather clearly. He won't be able to get off along with them, but at least, he can find some side street to go into away from at least this group of infected.

Benny hands are shaking as he tries to line up the sights, then remembers his training, his martial discipline and the key is to control your breathing. He takes a deep breath, inhale, exhale, inhale, and then exhale. "Come on Benny, get it togther, people are counting on you." He mutters to himself under his breath. The infected are getting closer, he doesn't dare take his eyes off of them in case their slow gait is merely a ruse. "Trix, Will get the civillians to safety. I'll try to hold these things off as long as I can until you are out of the area." He takes aim at the closest shuffling bastard, not ready to just squeeze the trigger just in case they are just delusional and not quite fully zombies. He's not sure how this works. "Police! Stop! Don't come any closer! Your under arrest for public disobedience and obstructing a Police officer." He waits to see if any of them react to his commands. He then takes aim at the center of mass of the closest walking infected, his finger still on the trigger guard of his MP7.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Benny's trained instincts kick in, leveling three shots at the nearest target's center of mass. It's a thirty-something woman, brunette, blue eyes, and she was pretty before necrosis. She has a turtleneck sweater and tight pants. She catches a bullet in the lung, one misses any organs, and a third shatters on a rib and bounces around inside her body, shrapnel in the veins.

She still walks. There's three next to her, and two in the street. The sound of Benny's firing draws more attention to him than anyone else, and their directions shift-- if everyone stays out of the way, he'll be swarmed. He's got five seconds to decide if he's standing his ground or getting the hell out of the way.

Lillian safely makes it to the Tahoe. She pauses to catch her breath, panting, and reaches for the door handle. As she does so, she notices in the back seat is a familiar young man. He made her pancakes. He's bleeding from the arm and shivering, groaning, fevered. He's alive. But is he safe?

"We can get seven in! Won't be comfy, or probably totally safe, but it'll work!" Trixie shouts back toward William. Claire's words sink in almost instantly, and she nods to her as she turns to William. "Ohmigawd, your hands!" She'd only just noticed the big man's wounded hands as she moves to retrieve the girl. "Come on, sweetie. The car's over here. Let's let the nice lady get your mommy and daddy out," she coaxes gently, scooping her up and jogging toward the seeming safety of the Tahoe."Benny! We're going! Get over here, /now/!" she shouts back toward their lone protector.

Claire steps up beside Benny, but she's got a very specific plan in mind. "Shoot them in the head." She says as she steps up beside him and levels the big ass revolver and squeezes off a shot. The weapon barks an explosive report and explodes the poor former prom queens face like a ripe melon beneath Galligars Smash-O-Matic, "On second thought... just run. I'm going to draw their attention and slip out the back... I'm quick. I know this city like the back of my hand..." And she's got safe houses set up everywhere.

She doesn't give him time to question her either.

Running out the glass front with her arms waving up over her head. "Hey, fuck sticks... over here..." Dancing around them, ducking, turning, and using her much smaller frame to get through tight spaces created by their slow moving forms. "Yummy yummy brains! Come'n get'em! You fuckin' shit smelling rot monkeys!"

Nothing makes Lillian run even faster than the sound of gunshots not so far behind and the nightmarish sight of unnervingly shambling figures in the shadow of darkness. At last, she arrives at the Tahoe, breathless but mostly unharmed. She only briefly glances at the cook - admittedly relieved such a master of pancake preparation yet lives - and practically leaps to the passenger seat. Without a key, she's forced to wait in trepidation while someone arrives to start the car. "Hurry! They're coming!" She's got her fingers on the 'lock all' button, prepared to shut out the world if a shambling monster gets too close.

The first pop of a pistol has Andrei duck down for a second, then peek up just one more time to acertain the source. This was what he was waiting for after all, evidence.. or perhaps some sort of indication of a means of harming the monsters. It all happened so fast last time that this would be a good learning exercise.. and a perfect entry for his 'diary' back home.

The cook shivers, and looks toward Lillian. He smiles, nervous, holding his arm with his uninjured hand. "Hey," he says. "G-Glad you're alright. You were... Lillian, right? I'm J-Jeremy." His teeth chatter. He's clearly in shock of some sort, or nearing it. "Fuck. I guess they were sick, huh? Hah... they just grabbed Dave, he..." He cries.

When noticing Lillian fairly safe inside the car... and listening to the Tahoe, Archene stops not many steps away from it, looking back towards the where the shots came from. If the officers with the keys don't come over, they can't keep Lillian alive. He draws his Umbrella-issued pistol and points the way he came from, just in case that when they come, there are... acceptable targets, following them.

"Wha...shoot them in the...of course...the head. Zombies...duh." Benny replies to Claire, wanting to facepalm at his own stupidity and the fact that his knowledge of D&D Monster Manual has failed him. He blinks as Claire tells him to run, "Hey kid...are your crazy? And where did you get that big friggin gun? Damn girl...who do you think you are, Dirty Harry or something?" He makes an eww face when the undead Prom Queen's face explodes and knows not to argue with her, but then she's drawing them away as a distraction. "Lady Rambo...wait. I don't even know your real name...aww hell, good luck." He then starts sprinting back towards the Tahoe, hearing Trixie yelling at him to hurry up and stops before getting in, making sure that all he civillians they rescued as well as his partners are safe. "Okay, okay...there was this girl...a kid really...she blew one of their faces off with this hand cannon and then she ran off drawing them away from me. Everyone in the Tahoe?" If there are any zombies nearby, he's going to aim for their heads just like that lady told him and squeeze off a round, gotta conserve ammo just in case.

William finally arrives at the Tahoe, jumping in the back seat along with the bitten man. He grimaces at the man's wound and knows he's not going to make it, and if he does, he's going to bite each and every one of them. "You need to get out, and go on your own. Otherwise I have no other choice but to shoot you." he opens the door for the man to get out, awaiting for him to step out. In case he tries anything funny he raises his Samurai Edge at him and motions with it to get the hell out. He prepares for the rest of the people coming with them to get in and hopefully start the car so they can leave. FAST. "C'mon! We need to go! NOW!"

Trixie pants up to the Tahoe, opening the back gate to boost the little girl inside. It's not the comfiest place to ride, but with the barrier screen between the back seat and the cargo area, it's probably the safest. "Hunker down and hold on, sweetie. This could be a bumpy trip," she says soothingly, then looks back at the others. "Guys, let's go! Will, you take the back with the boy and..."And then she sees the young man occupying the back seat. "Um, who are you?" she asks cleverly, confused. "Not to be a bitch or anything, but where did you come from?"Then she sees the arm he's clutching. "Ohmigawd... please tell me you haven't been bitten by one of those... those /things/," she says, the words half moaned as she realizes what she's going to have to do if he says yes. Will gets a confused look, complete with a little-girl bitten lip.

Lillian returns Jeremy a nervous smile, glancing out the passenger side window, "right." She furrows her brow, smile fading, "who...who grabbed him...?" She finally takes the opportunity to notice the man's poor state of health, and offers the only encouragement she can possibly conjure at the moment, "don't worry. W-we'll be fine. They're special forces. You'll be m-making pancakes again in no time."

When William arrives, she stares at him in shock, "but...but..." She lets out a gasp as the officer raises a gun at the poor pancake maker, "he's just trying to get out of this like we are..."

"Woah...woah. Everybody just calm down. He's injured...were cops, we don't turn people away if they need help." Benny says to his two partners, Trixie and William. "And we don't shoot injured civillians. I know an intern at the hospital and a scientist who may be able to help him." He gives both Trixie and William a /look/. "I've just seen some really fucked up shit but we are not going to lose our shit here. Good job rescuing the girl from the SUV. Now, lets get /everyone/ into the Tahoe and get the hell outta here." He pulls out his handcuffs and squeezes into the back seat with Lillian. "Hey miss Lillian. You know this man. Good. Sorry, just for everyone's safety can you put your hands behind your back, I'm going to cuff you not too tightly and then we are going to the hospital. Okay?"

Claire asserts her dominance over the living dead and then rubs it in their faces. Her lithe frame expertly dodges their clumsy, awkward movements, but they never cease, pivoting like tank turrets and stumbling toward her. They care not if they stumble or hit each other, flesh without will guided by simple hungers.

The wrecked SUV is leaking fuel now, and the fire grows, threatening the little building with smoke and inferno. It burns so pretty.

Jeremy stares blankly at the gun pointed straight at him. He gives a little nervous giggle, and through his pained grimace and moist eyes he stutters, "W-what, man? I'm hurt man, look, I got bit, I need a fucking hospital, what--" He doesn't know how to respond, and he's not moving. But the longer everyone stays here, the more at risk they are. He leaps on Benny's words. "Yeah, please, thank God, what he said, man, get that fucking gun out of my face let's go please!

William lowers his gun "Gag his mouth, if he turns, we're done for. I won't shoot him until he turns. But the second he shows signs of being infected i'm booting him out. Let's go." he sighs and keeps his gun at the ready. "He's bit. Theres no cure for this infection, Emma can't help and neither can the scientists Benny. You already know this. Nobody has any idea what the fuck this thing is except it makes humans cannibals."

Claire can hope that her distraction isn't squandered by bickering Nancy's over their discussing the humanity of leaving an injured dude with no definitive proof that bites cause the spread of infection. Glad our Police are on point with that serve and protect business.

She ducks down and scampers across her palm to get out of the way of a gripping hand and brings the Broken Butterfly up to canoe another face with the explosive report of a stick of dinomite. "Yeah, that's it... keep co-... what the shit, they haven't left yet?! ''FLY. YOU FOOLS!''" walking backwards a couple studder steps, she turns and darts into an alleyway, grabbing hold of the fire escape to get up to, at least, the second floor.

Lillian nods firmly, "exactly. What Benny said. He's hurt. Shooting him just for that is insane." She breathes out a small sigh, "thank you, Benny." Then she just sort of glares in shock at the once agreeable officer, "screw you. If you want to cuff somebody, go cuff yourself." Rolling her eyes at William, she glances to whoever's hopefully in the driver's seat and commands, "come on. Time to get out of here."

"Fine, William. Sorry, Jeremy in addition to the handcuffs, your going to have to be gagged. Public safety, you understand? We are going to get you to the hospital as quickly as we can." Benny says to Jeremy in a matter of factly tone and then glances at William, very relieved that his partner lowered his gun and nods to the man. "Satisfied? Okay, Trixie. Head count. We've got Jeremy, miss Lillian, little girl in trunk, you, William and me. Uh how about that guy standing outside the SUV? We have room for that guy?" He looks out at Archene. "Hey mister. You need a ride? You might have to squeeze into the trunk or hang off the back. But choose quickly because, S.T.A.R.S. we are leaving!"

Trixie shakes her head, nodding to Benny at last. "Hospital's about to burst, Benny. Let's hope they've got room for two more." She carefully secures the two children in the back compartment and waves to anyone left (that being Claire and Archene, if they can see her). "All aboard that's going aboard! Got squeeze-in room left!" Then she hurries to the driver's seat and gets the Tahoe started.Only then does she draw the heavy revolver from her shoulder holster and take aim through the side window, resting her hand on the edge of the window opening to steady her aim, just like Dad always told her to. "Good luck, sweetie," she whispers, squeezing off a shot at the infected closest to poor Claire.

With things starting to break up, and more than a little bit of information to go off of, Andrei finally decides that NOW.. with all the distractions starting to disappear is a good time to leave. So he'll move off to the side and try and slink off into the night down the street, not calling attention to himself, trying to let the guntotting, and super crazy climbing skills be the more distracting source than his own work. Better to get out alive while you still can and there are other people who can take the heat off you

William stares blankly at Lillian. "Be thankful we're bringing you along at all. He's biten, you know what that means? He's infected. Would you like to turn into one of those mindless shamblers out there? I sure as fucking hell wouldn't. He's either gagged and handcuffed or you both can walk. How does that sound?" he's not dealing with this girls tantrums when their lives are at stake. "Trixie, drive. No more time to wait. We have to go. NOW." he keeps his pistol at the ready waiting for the man to be gagged and handcuffed, assumedly without resisting.

A moment later it downs to him that the one girl who helped the kids out, the same girl who told OFFICERS to leave... and officers are worrying about him more than the girl? He shakes his head at the girl, "You can go ahead! Keep miss Vorst safe!" He runs after Claire, he can get out of this, the little girl with the nice magnum... he isn't sure. It may not look, but he was once... a glorified bodyguard, for the lack of better words. He quickly shooting a zombie twice, one shoot blowing.

Jeremy is injured and frightened and really wants to just get out of this horrible nightmare, please, he should have just stayed home today and called in sick oh god what's happening? He doesn't resist anything done to him in terms of restraint. Just pleads with his eyes and shivers and sobs.

Claire, Archene, and Trixie are quite good shots, and once the knowledge of how to fight these things disseminates through the group's collective understanding, in such small numbers their threat diminishes. The visceral experience remains-- skulls pop and pulp, shredded vocal chords gurgle and groan, and sometimes, some of you are even convinced they say real words, glimpses of the humanity still there. They are human, after all-- look at them. Two arms, two legs. Wedding rings and socks that don't match. Bad haircuts and blue jeans. For anyone who isn't some sort of hardened killer, this whole night is fucked and traumatizing, success be damned.

The Dish lights up, lighthouse-blazing in the dark, hot enough to roast flesh. Time to go, kids.

Lillian shrugs her shoulders at William, offering him a scowl, "handcuff and gag him all you want, but you're not touching me." After glancing outside to see the flash of muzzle fire and witness the explosion of dissicated limbs, she exclaims, "yeah, hurry! They're probably catching up and we're wasting time!"

Trixie grits her teeth, puts the smoking revolver on the center console, throws the Tahoe into gear, and eases down the pedal, smoothly accelerating away from the funeral pyre of The Dish and some poor family's Expedition. After all, nobody's wearing seat belts and there's precious cargo in the rear cargo area."I just know I'm going to have more nightmares after this..." she murmurs.

"Will, chill." Benny tells his partner and doesn't look at Lillian, because he feels like a piece o crap but he's seen too much crazy shit in the last fifteen minutes that it's hard to process, so he thinks this is the best idea and sticking to it. He cuffs Jeremy and gags the man with some duct tape, he found on the back seat floor. He then rolls down the closest window, aiming his MP7 at the head of the nearest Zombie, that is closing in on Claire and tries to end it so that the girl with no name, who's bad ass will have one less to worry about. "Trixie. Lets get the bus rolling. Will, keep an eye on Jeremy while I try to take out a few more of these things." He glances towards Trixie, "You and me both..."

Claire has had a lot longer to steel herself to all of this than just about anyone else. To her knowledge, she's the first person still alive to see human infected, the first to kill one and survive... She's wept over those people she shot and buried all of those hard emotions down inside in a vault.

Once she's climbed to the second floor of the fire escape, the panting, sweating, tired Claire slumps back against the wall... safe in the knowledge that, for right now anyways, the damn things can't climb after her. Who even knows what the infection will do to them? She turns a little while addressing her inner musings and spies Archene crossing the street towards her alleyway, "W-what..." Almost ready to break down and let all those emotions pour out in a river of soul crushing tears.

That burnette went to school with her brother... she use to babysit Claire.

Images of her head disappearing from her shoulders will forever stain her psychi.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Shouting down at him, Broken Butterfly laying against the railing, "Get up here!" Dragging the sleeve of her shirt across her face, just cleaning some sweat, no she was not crying at all.

Luckly, Archene is among the lines of what one can consider a hardened killer. After killing the acceptable target, he simply keeps moving after Claire. He entes the alley enough for others in the street to not see him, but he spends a bullet in each of them. Before looking up to Claire speaking in a quieter tone that she may listen, "You should be the one getting down from there, it is getting darker. Go somewhere safe." He puts his gun back in his holster.

The car sweeps through the quiet streets. The living aren't walking anymore, holed up, gathering into crowds for safety, ready to swarm safe zones and or flee-- soon, within days, this place will be unavigable. But for now, the group can still move.

Claire brushes her hair out of her face with the sweep of her hand and glances in the window of the apartment building she'd climbed, "I know where I'm going..." She tells Archene with a frown, "Either get up here or get going.. I've got the second floor baracaded..." Motioning with a thumb at the window.